OFF & ON

at times I still consider coughing it up: gas pipe, 19th floor

window, 3 fifths of whiskey in 4 hours or

slamming at 85 mph into a slab of

concrete.

my first thought of suicide came at the age of 13 and it has

been with me ever since

through all the botched failures;

sometimes just rather playing at it, little minor

rehearsals;

other times

really trying like hell to

kill myself.

yet, now it's never totally intense, it's more like

considering whether to go to a movie or

not or whether to buy a new pair of

shoes.

actually, years go by and the suicidal thoughts

almost completetly

abate.

then

suddenly

they return, like:

look here, baby, lets give it another

shot.

and when it returns it's fairly

compelling

but not so much in the mind (as in the old

days) but strangely, suicide waits in odd little places,

on the back of your neck or

at a spot just under the chin

or along the arms like the sleeves of a

sweater......

it used to hit the gut, now it's almost like

catching a rash.

I will be driving along in my car with the radio

on and it will leap at me and I will smile at

it

remembering the old days

when those I knew thought that

my daring crazy acts stemmed from

bravery....

I will drive for several hours

up and down strange streets in

strange neighborhoods

at times

slowing down carefully

where children are playing in the

road.

I will park

go into cafes

drink coffee

read newspapers.

I will hear voices speaking of

ridiculous and dull

things.

I will be back in the car

driving along

and at once

everything will lift:

we all live in the same world:

I will have to pay my gas bill, get a

set of new reading glasses, I will need a

new tyre

left rear

and I think I've been using my neighbor's

garbage can.

it is fine to be normal again and

as I pull into the driveway

a large whit moon smiles at me

through the windshield of

evening.

I brake, get out, close the car

door, centuries of sadness, gladness and

equilibrium will walk with me up to the door

as I put in the key

unlock it

walk into the place

once again having escaped the

inescapable, I will move toward the

kitchen cabinet for the

bottle

to

celebrate

that

or

whatever there is,

isn't,

will be,

won't

be -

like right

now.

- CHARLES BUKOWSKI